


Megstiel Drabbles

by Skitty_the_Great



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitty_the_Great/pseuds/Skitty_the_Great
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of Askbox Fic done on Tumblr for various users.  They are not in chronological order.  Most choose to ignore the whole "dead" issue.  Some will be sexual in nature.  This will be continuously updated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Megstiel Drabbles

 

 

**1.**

She didn't need to sleep, of course, but sometimes, after they'd been together, she would rest.  He liked to watch her during those times.  With her eyes closed and her expression peaceful, she looked painfully fragile.  For a moment, he could almost forget what they were.  For a moment...they were just human.  Her eyes fluttered open and she caught him staring.  He expected a sarcastic jibe, or maybe a rebuke, but received neither.  She pushed her hand free of the blankets and reache dtowards him, beckoningly.

"Come back to bed, Clarence."

 

 

 

**2.**

As the bell on George Bailey's christmas tree began to ring, Castiel smiled, simply and unselfconciously.  Meg sat watching him, a smug little smile on her face.  "Atta boy, Clarence," she whispered in time with George.  "Atta boy."

 

 

 

**3.**

They sat on opposite sides of the table, looking anywhere but at each other.  Sam and Dean sat beside them, bickering over the same inane bullshit they bickered over every day, completely unaware of the thin line of tension running between the angel and demon that shared their space.  Castiel looked at Meg, but averted his gaze when her eyes flicked to his.  On top of the scarred, wooden tabletop, the tips of her fingers gently brushed against his hand.

 

 

 

** 4. **

Meg hummed softly to herself, a tune she couldn't quite remember.  It danced in and out of her mind, coming out in broken notes and half remembered melodies.  She stroked Castiel's hair, making small swirls in the dark locks as he rested his head on her stomach, his breath softly teasing at her skin.

"What song is that?" he asked in that way of his that sounded almost angrily curious.

"I don't remember," she answered.  "I think maybe my mother used to sing it to me."

"You remember your mother?" he asked in quiet surprise.

"Not exactly."  Meg shifted uncomfortably and he reaised his head to look at her.  She avoided his gaze.  "It's been a long time since I was human, Clarence.  Don't look for that squishy humanity wehre there isn't any."

"I'm not looking for humanity," he answered flatly, furrowing his brow in confusion at her discomfort.  "I'm looking at you."

 

 

 

**5.**

She smelled of sweetness and sex, with the faintest hint of smokey sulfur.  he trailed his lips along the column of her throat, desperate to breath her in, to consume her completely.  The trembling he felt beneath his fingers was no sign of weakness, but one of need.  He held her tighter, her bare flesh pressing against his...not close enough.  Never close enough.  The smallest gaps felt like chasms as he crushed her against his chest.  He would have her, all of her, or perish in the attempt.

 

 

 

**6.**

When he kissed her, he did it softly.  But it was not the soft kiss of a man, afraid of moving too fast, or of hurting her fragile, female body.  He kissed her with the softness of a being that did not have to be gentle with her, yet chose to do so anyway.  A being that savored each moment, brimming with potential, before spilling out into a frenzied passion that would have left a frail human body lying broken on the ground.  He kissed her as though he wanted it to last, and that was, perhaps, the most distressing part.

 

 

 

**7.**

Crowley's minion stepped back, breathing heavily with a smile on his lips.  He was coated in a fine spray of blood...her blood.  He waited, planning where next to cut her, deciding how deep to go, how he could hurt her most effectively.  For a moment, just one brief moment, she prayed.  A single name rose to her lips before she could stop it, and the sound of it, almost inaudible even to her own ears, was what finally broke her.

 

 

 

**8.**

As her head rested on his chest, she could feel the faint thumping of his heart.  It beat with a purely human regularity, mundane and important at the same time.  Her fingers unconsciously tapped in time with his rhythm, once, then again, and again.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked in a curiously grouchy tone.  Her smallest actions seemed to confuse and frustrate him so.

"It's your heartbeat, Clarence.  It's one of the only things we have in common."

His hand touched the top of her head lightly.

"There are other things.

 

 

 

**9.**

"Did you, I dunno, talk to him about it?" Sam asked, unable to let the issue go.  Meg's look of annoyed incredulity brought a frown to his face.

"Do I look like one of your clingy girlfriend's, Sam?  No, I didn't talk to him, and I'm not going to.  Go back to reading your babysitter's club and leave the big kids alone."  Sam shook his head, unwilling to pursue the matter further with her current mood.  He didn't envy Cas right now.  He really, really didn't.

 

 

 

**10.**

She ached in all the right places as she stretched, luxuriating in the pull of tired muscles.  At the foot of the bed, Castiel sat facing away from her, his arms resting on his knees and his shoulders slightly hunched.  Meg sat up slowly and slid across the smooth sheets to where he sat, leaning against him and putting her arms around his shoulders.  The feel of her bare skin against his was nothing short of delicious. 

"This was a sin," he said, and Meg smiled wickedly. 

"Don't worry Clarence.  As long as you're sorry, God will forgive you."

 

 

 

**11.**

"Would you submit to being saved?" he asked, and she hesitated before answering him.  Not because she didn't know her answer, but because she knew what he hoped she would say, but never would. 

"No, Castiel, I will not 'submit to being saved.'  I'm a demon, and that's all that I am. Take that away, and there's nothing left."  He was quiet for a long moment, not moving, not looking at her, working through what she had said, before finally meeting her gaze. 

"You're wrong."  And he was gone, in a swish of wings.

 

 

**12.**

  
Dean swiped his hand across his mouth distastfully. 

"Seriously, man?  This isn't some kind of leftover, broken angel thing?" 

Castiel tilted his head to the side, squinting at Dean.  "I don't understand.  What about her confuses you so?"

"She's a freaking demon, Cas!  It's not natural and, to be honest, it's making me a little nausious just thinking about it."

Castiel's eyes tightened.  "Then stop thinking about things that do not concern you."

 

**13.**

**  
**Crowley didn't even need to try anymore.  Not when Castiel made it so very easy.  "Do you have any idea what I did to her, while you were off running around with your pet moose and squirrel?  Well, not me really.  Couldn't stand the stink of her, to be honest.  Oh but my boys...my boys had fun.  It's amazing the things you can put a human body through without ever using a blade.  At least not one made of metal."  A small smile touched his lips.  "I mean, a whore is only really good for one thing, after all."


End file.
